The Message
by gracie89
Summary: A message on the answer phone leaves the team shocked. Something a team member thought they had escaped seems to have found him all over again.
1. Chapter 1

**The Message**

The con had been working perfectly until Nate had introduced Elliot as his brother. The man had taken one gaping look at him and yelled for security at the top of his voice. The teams exit from the Marks mansion had been quick and bloody. The only damage done to the team itself however had been slight bruising to Elliot's elbows and fists.

When they arrived back at Nate's apartment The Message had been waiting on the answer machine. The whole group heard it; Nate hadn't realised what a bombshell he would be dropping when he stabbed at the flashing machine almost without thought. He couldn't have known what the message would hold. It was left by their Mark. And it left the group stunned.

"I know who you are." Came the Marks voice. "My father has a videotape of you. You were the one who hurt him...you're evil...you're a monster, a _depraved_ monster. Apparently you didn't recognise me even though I look a lot like him, or at least what he used to look like. Maybe this recording will jog your memory. I don't care how far you run this time, you'll see me again. And then you'll die. Count on it. Happy listening."

They heard the click of a tape being set to play. The voice on it was scratched and raw and each wheezing breath was obviously agony. Despite this the stone cold hate it held was loud and clear. And it was undeniably Elliot.

"_One day I'll come for you. One day you'll pay for your mistakes. You'll pay in blood and pain and carnage. You life will be scorched earth. It will stand as a warning. People will hear your name and remember; remember you and be sickened. And they will learn to fear me, to fear my name. They will feel that shiver down their spine. And you will know what it is to be afraid, to cower. I won't kill you because your fate is to be much worse._

_"I will have my vengeance. I will watch you burn..."_

_TBC? Should I? It's been a while since I've had the time or the inspiration to write so I'm a little out of practice!_


	2. Chapter 2

There was a click as the phone was hung up and then... silence.

All eyes turned to Elliot whose face was totally blank, utterly expressionless. They stood frozen for a few seconds before the stasis was broken by Elliot stood up and strode out the room. No reaction at all.

The others stood speechless.

Parker was the first to speak.

"Okay, that was weird. So what do we do now?" Her tone suggested that she did not really understand the gravity of the message. Like it wasn't a big deal.

But it was. It was a little hard to explain why. Maybe it was the way that Elliot had just totally shut down. They had expected Elliot to get grumpy and explain it was just some old job that had caught up with him, no big deal. Just an annoying hassle that he would sort out; like the Butcher of Kiev.

But it obviously was a big deal.

Only Sophie had seen the tiny slip in Elliot's facade when he heard the recording and her reaction had told Nate and Hardison all they needed to know. She had seen a look of anguish before the walls had locked down. A look of worry had in turn fallen across her face, she was scared for Elliot and she didn't know why.

"I'll go check on him." Nate announced, but he was stopped by Sophie.

"No, let me. Hardison; start checking out this guy's father. Nate; you need to start trying to figure out if we can salvage the con and Parker... you just...you..." Her mind was so filled with worry her brain just couldn't seem to find something constructive for Parker to do. She looked to the others.

"You can help me with computers an'... stuff." Hardison said sounding more than a little awkward.

Nate patted Hardison on the shoulder as he and Parker walked away, "Nice save buddy..."

"Shut up! Mocking? Really? That ain't cool man..."

The moment of levity was short lived and a little half hearted but they needed it. They didn't think there would be much more of it in the near future.

Elliot sat in his truck. He had meant to drive off, to get as far away from the team as possible. But he found himself sat frozen, head in his hands, assaulted by memories. He had always had to compartmentalise his life. Putting things in padlocked boxes and shoving them on shelves in far corners of his mind, hoping never to have to confront them again.

Today however it seemed that the shelves had collapsed and he found himself crushed under the avalanche.

That message... that stupid message! Those words, his words, reverberated around his brain.

Elliot remembered the day he had spoken those words and he remembered the day he had made good on those promises. He wondered if the rest of the team would look at him the same if they knew what he had done. It was violent and terrible but he had been so hurt, so filled with rage that he had not been able to control himself. Some days he swore he could still smell the blood and fear and sweat on his skin.

This was a side of Elliot none of the group truly knew.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know what the others would do if they knew. The man they knew never inflicted more damage than he had to. He didn't kill unless there were _no_ other options. He often implied he'd hurt Hardison when the younger man wound him up and Hardison would back off, but honestly Hardison never believed Elliot would really hurt him. They all saw him as a grumpy but ultimately good guy. A guy who didn't hit cops and grew his own vegetables.

Although he wasn't sure the whole team was totally naive about him. Except perhaps Nathan.

Nathan would probably disagree with his assessment of course. He considered himself well versed in the criminal world, he even considered himself a part of it. And he was to an extent, but there were things he would never truly understand, a line he would never cross. A violence that he would never feel, inflict or comprehend. And he certainly wouldn't experience it if Elliot could prevent it. And if that meant that he had to stand between a bullet and a target then so be it.

When the team had first got together Elliot had often found himself telling the others he was a 'bad guy'. And he had meant it. He was a different kind of criminal to them.

Sophie was a grifter; she charmed people and tricked them. She walked in looking spectacular and walked out with her mark; her every word hypnotising, leading men and women like the pied piper. She wanted their money not their lives. She didn't hurt anything but their wallets and maybe their pride.

Same with Parker. She slipped in and she slipped out like a ghost with sticky fingers. She was invisible, untouchable; she was gone before you knew she was there. The things she stole were insured most of the time, and well, if they'd failed to do that then they didn't deserve the plundered treasures.

And Hardison, well, most of his greatest schemes were carried out from behind a computer screen. His weapon was his keyboard not his fists. He probably never even inhabited the same hemisphere of half his 'victims'. Hacker sounded a lot more dangerous than it really was.

And Nate, well he wasn't really a criminal at all.

Elliot on the other hand, he was a hitter. His whole career revolved around violence. It was what he did. He inflicted pain or death on others. He had ended a lot of lives. He wasn't boasting and he certainly wasn't proud.

When he started out he was a hell of a lot more vicious and out of control than he was now. It was partly inexperience and youth; his need to make a name for himself. There were also the deep wells of rage and brutality that were a by-product of the horrors of his childhood that he didn't ever allow himself to really think about lest they finally destroyed him. But these were reasons not excuses. He paid the price of these 'mistakes' in self-loathing and the hatred that he turned inward.

It took him a long time to get under control. It was not acceptable to punish others for the suffering of his past. It was after three weeks in some drug baron's 'prison' in a far off land after his temper had gotten him in trouble again that he finally forced himself to make a change. Funny, those weeks of hell had actually saved his life. He didn't think that that was his torturer's intention but still, if he hadn't snapped the guy's neck already he might actually have thanked him.

Unfortunately, this change in Elliot had come too late to save their current Marks father. Not that the man was anywhere close to being innocent. Even now there was a part of Elliot that felt he got what he deserved.

Sophie found Elliot in his truck. The door was open and he had the keys one of the hands that were supporting the man's forehead.

He was absolutely still. If Sophie hadn't known better she would have wondered if he was still breathing.

"Elliot..." She called out tentatively. The words had been softly spoken but he jumped like she had screamed at the top of her voice. It occurred to her that this was the first time she had ever seen him jump like that. Even Parker couldn't sneak up on Elliot, not that she hadn't tried. Sophie had a feeling the results wouldn't be pretty if she ever did manage it.

"Elliot, it's okay, it's just me."

"Sorry 'bout that Soph' I was a million miles away." He tried to sound casual but he sounded shaken and Sophie didn't think it was anything to do with her.

Sophie bent down and picked up the keys that Elliot had accidently dropped in his surprise.

"Here, I assume you're going to want these if you're planning to get anywhere." Sophie allowed a little teasing to slip into her voice. Elliot responded with a small smile.

"How d'you know I wasn't planning to practise hotwiring m' truck? Would hate to get sloppy on you guys now." He joked. Both feeling a little more relaxed, Sophie broached a more serious topic.

"So, you want to tell me want that was about back there?"

Elliot looked down and rubbed his forehead and ran his hands through his hair, letting it slip in front of his face.

"I...I'm not sure if I can do that yet." He answered honestly. Sophie tilted her head.

"Okay then, I guess we can talk about that later." She said her voice soothing. "How about we start with this then; how real was that threat he made. If we assume he's anything like his father, should we be worried?"

"Yeah." Came the quiet reply. "Yeah we should."

Elliot looked pale and drawn. His eyes were more haunted than Sophie had ever seen before. She needed to take action, she need the whole story. She needed to take Elliot some place he felt comfortable, safe. She knew where they needed to go.

"Okay. We're going to go for a drive. You and me. I'll drive because I'm wearing shoes that are suitable for driving and that doesn't happen often so I'm going to make the most of it." Sophie smiled.

Elliot smiled back knowing that her wanting to drive was more to do with her concern over his where his head was at than her shoes but acquiescing gratefully anyhow.

"Okay then, let's go."

**TBC**

**OK next chapter I will start explaining what's going on and what not. Or at least I plan to - sometimes I go off on tangents by accident! Hope the story isn't too jumbled and confusing (this sometimes seems to be a side effect of my serious lack of planning. Cutting and pasting ahoy!) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**** Ok it has been pointed out to me I've been spelling 'Eliot' wrong this entire story (what a douche!) Sorry! You'd think I'd have noticed, but no, so y'all should thank Meatball42 as I'm sure that was really annoying. (I'm not being sarcastic in case it came out that way.) Peace x **

**P.S.**** – Since my entire knowledge of America's geography and its various terrains and weather could fit on a post-it note you'll have to forgive any inaccuracy or unlikeliness (is that a word?) I've kept things vague so let your imagination run free in terms of where this is taking place ;)**

The night sky outside was inky and the further away from the city they got the less cars that appeared until the roads became eerie and deserted.

They sat in silence. Both lost in thought; one in painful memories, the other contemplating how to help someone who was so distressed, so broken.

Sophie often found herself wondering what had happened to Eliot to make him the way he was. Something had damaged him so badly that he the only way he could expel all that rage was to make it a career, his life's work.

Still it wasn't her place to pry unless it was absolutely necessary. All of the team were damaged in their own way.

Eliot was completely tense; all his muscles taught. His eyes ever watchful were scanning the distance as if he were in the middle of a war zone searching for the danger that would get them killed. It occurred to Sophie that he always seemed to be on high alert. She wondered idly if she had ever truly seen his relax. Sure on any given day he could create a convincing facsimile, his carefully considered body posture would be fool most people but she saw through it. Saw the lie like he had stood up and announced it; can't kid a kidder and all that. So he would 'laze' with the rest of the team in Nate's apartment or the bar downstairs, playing the part, putting on the act.

She had spent her whole career fooling people so she guessed she couldn't begrudge him for it. She just hoped that one day he would be comfortable enough to let his guard down.

Where Eliot's guard was at 100% around the team, the teams' guards seemed to fall away around Eliot. She supposed there was some irony in there somewhere. They all, unconsciously or not, felt that bit safer with Eliot there. Protected. This was quite a weight to put on the southern man's shoulders, because this meant he had to be vigilant all time.

It was a little unfair she supposed. But then it was partially self-imposed. Eliot's fierce protective instincts were not something he could or would turn off. She wondered how many lives it had brought to an end.

She thought about the recording of Eliot on the answering machine. She felt an involuntary shiver. Then felt instantly guilty when Eliot looked over his face full of concern.

"You okay?" He asked softly, a look she couldn't decipher on his face. She smiled reassuringly.

"I'm fine. You know I should be asking you if you're okay." She said it with just a little exasperation in her voice at his perpetual habit of putting other peoples well being above his own.

"So... feel like letting me in on our destination. The control freak inside o' me is getting a little nutty over here darlin'."

A warmth spread through Sophie as she realised that Eliot had just admitted what he would consider a weakness. Maybe he trusted her a little more than she realise. A smile spread across her face involuntarily.

"What's so funny? Seriously Soph... "

"Nothing, don't worry about it, it's not a secret. Haven't you figured it out yet? You've been watching out the window like a hawk, I'd have thought it was obvious, you're up here all the time."

"No way... how did you know about this place."

"I have my ways."

"Stalker!" Eliot accused jokingly. "So you figured bringing me to horses would mellow me right out huh? Well apparently you know me too well. Thanks Sophie." He said the last words so softly she almost didn't catch them.

For a moment there she had thought bringing him to his favourite stables was a mistake. A hollow gesture that just proved how little she knew of the trouble man that sat beside her. But the quiet thanks had assuaged all her self-doubt.

The stables were small and remote. The kind that you wouldn't just stumble upon by accident. Well kept and private; perfect for Eliot. The horses were treated with something akin to veneration, lovingly cared by people who knew what they were doing. Eliot had made sure of that, when he had bought the place. Being the owner certainly had its perks; like being able to turn up at 3 o'clock in the morning and having full access.

The area in surrounding the stables was filled with infinite trails and a wealth of natural beauty. Galloping full tilt, the wind rushing through his hair, the air clean and fresh was one of the few places Eliot felt truly free. The crushing weight of responsibility and fear and rage all lifted. He could breath. He sometimes felt that if he didn't ride he would go crazy.

Of course the feeling was only temporary and he had to return to reality. Some days he just wanted to keep riding until he disappeared into the sunset. Of course underneath this he was a little afraid those feelings were something bordering on suicidal, that he secretly envisioned riding until he just died. But he pushed these thoughts out. Dismissing them; refusing to full commit to the belief that he really felt that way.

"Eliot?"

"Hmm? Oh sorry I was a million miles away again huh." He was so lost in thought he hadn't noticed the truck had stopped.

"It's okay Eliot, you don't have to apologise. This is quality Eliot Spencer time remember? Now, you go off and take a ride for a while. I'll wait for you here and when you're ready we can talk okay?"

Eliot got out the truck without another word and went to tack up one of the horses. He needed more than a gentle wander down one of the picturesque trails, he needed open space to gallop as fast as man and beast could travel. The full moon lighting their way.

It was hours before Eliot returned. Sweat evaporated off the horse, visible in the hazy morning light. It was still a little dark but the sun was rising creating a breathtaking display of colours that most of the population was not awake to enjoy.

Sophie was woken by a gentle tapping on the window just in time to catch nature wonderful exhibition, a reminder to appreciate Mother Nature in all her glory. She and Eliot walked out to a trail looking out on a lake and sat together on a patch of grass just watching for a while.

"So..." Sophie said

"So..." Came the mimicked response.

"Come on, you're not going to make me beg are you?"

"Nope, 'cause I could never do that to you Darlin', far too ungentlemanly." Eliot laughed. "I can stall for a little while longer though right?" Sophie tilted her head, giving his a look of sympathy.

"Yeah... I thought not." He said quietly. He eyes went upwards and she could see them moistening. "God... what a mess."

And then Eliot did something she never expected, he started to cry. Sophie way hit with a wave of sorrow. Her throat got tight and she felt tears prick at her own eyes. The pain was so clear on his face that she grabbed onto him, hugging him to her painfully tight as the silent tears turned into sobs.

He was in such agony and all she could do was hold him.

When he finally stopped and he breathing started to normalise she still clutched his body to hers like she was afraid he would shatter into a million pieces if she let go. Because people shouldn't look that fragile.

She thought when their eyes met he might be embarrassed but when they did she saw none. He was a man's man and he wouldn't cry over nothing, but he was wise enough to know that it didn't make him less of a man. It was a natural human response, and he was just like everyone else. He was strong enough to cry in front of her and not be ashamed. She felt a new found respect for the man growing in her chest.

And so they sat there entwined in the early morning light. Like they were the only people on the planet.

When Eliot finally spoke his voice was husky and calm.

"I knew something was off right from the briefing Nate gave us. I didn't know what but I... God, if I had just listened to my instincts..."

**4 Days Ago**

"_Right, listen up guys, we have a new job." Nate announced. They all wandered over to the sofa's to look at the monitor's on the wall. Hardison was already seated clicker in hand, presentation ready._

"_This is Brian Roskin. He's owner of Roskin Inc. They are a multi-million dollar company who have their finger in more than a few pies."_

_Eliot stared at the picture; there was something...familiar about Roskin. A sick feeling started to form in the pit of his stomach. Who was this guy? He was pretty sure he had never met the guy before but still... _

_He stared at the photo trying to figure out what set him so on edge but his brain refused to co-operate._

_He was jerked out of his contemplations by a pillow flying towards his head which he caught out of reflex before sending it back hard with deadly accuracy, nailing Hardison in the face._

"_WHAT!" He snapped causing the rest of the team to jump._

"_Dude, calm down, I just... you zoned out there and I was just trying t' y'know, get your attention man." Hardison looked a little wide eyed as he defended his actions, his pitch a little higher than normal. _

_The only reply he got was a death glare and a growl._

"_Geez, over react much?" He huffed under his breath before he motioned Nate to continue with the briefing._

_Eliot put his bad feeling aside and concentrated on what was being said having already missed a chunk of the details he was supposed to be taking in._

"_So what Roskin's doing is running a whole bunch of little scams through a number of corporation's that are owned by shell companies. He makes sure that it is damn near impossible to trace."_

"_Yeah the man's like some kind of evil genius..." Hardison put in._

"_Oooooh like Nate but eviler!" Parker said._

"_What... hey, did you just call me evil? Hey I'm not evil, I'm the good guy!"_

"Right..._ yeah, course you are buddy." Parker tapped her nose, smiling at Nate knowingly like she was in on a secret and they had an understanding – which she clearly didn't._

"_No... Parker seriously...I... you know what, _never mind_."_

"_Okay so there have been multiple attempts by law enforcement to take him down but the guy's just too slick and has too much money to throw around. He has plenty of people to clear any mistakes he makes._

"_These," He indicated a picture of a young man and two small children, "Are our clients. Daniel Regent a 25 year old recently widowed father of Oscar and Emmeline."_

_Parker let out an inexplicable burst of laughter. "Emmeline!" She said as if that explained everything before letting out another cackle._

"_Right..." Sophie interrupted looking amused but trying to move things along. "So, was he involved in the wife's death?"_

"_Oh no, she was killed when a police chase spilled onto the sidewalk. She got mowed down by the suspects as they took a wrong turn and drove into a store front. It was a freak accident. They weren't prepared for life without one of the family breadwinners either. They're struggling big time. To make matters worse the kids both saw their mother die and are severely traumatised. They need help but the husband just can't afford it."_

"_That's awful, it really is..." Sophie started her voice clouded with sympathy, "But, I'm not seeing how this relates to our friend Roskin here."_

"_Oh yeah, just wait, this one's a really doozy." Hardison said. "One of Roskin's businesses is a funeral home. I know... could the guy get any creepier? So anyway he has this scam going where he tells the family of the recently deceased, 'Here look, this is how much it cost you, oh and look how wonderfully low my prices are yada yada yada'. Then once he has the bodies, BOOM. He suddenly doubles the cost; he basically holds the body's ransom 'til the grieving families give up the dough. This man's a whole other kind of low-life scum. I'm a criminal and _I'm_ shocked!"_

"_Yeah," Nate added, "And he target's a very specific market too. People who he knows won't go to the cops and can't afford to fight the company's lawyers. He bleeds them dry and as if that wasn't despicable enough, the guy's doing it for what amounts to pocket change for a man like him but is wiping out the families savings and sinking them in debts. And this isn't his only scheme he has going, he has a whole bunch of 'em throughout his dirty empire."_

"_Nate," Eliot cut in seriously, "I know this isn't normally how we do things but I think before we do anything we should just pay for Regent's wife funeral. And we should get those kids some help. Get that mess sorted. It ain't fair to have that family just hanging, waiting and hoping they'll get her back. We can get the money back, hell, what does it matter to us if we never see it again. If you guys don't wanna I'll pay for it myself..."_

"_No you're right. We'll all chip in, there are kids involved and the Dad's falling apart, this is no time for holding back."_

"_Okay so what's the angle here? How do we take this guy down?" Sophie was apparently the only one focussing today._

"_We're gonna come to him with a dodgy idea, hook him and then get enough incriminating evidence to make an airtight case for the D.A. that even they can't screw up. Also, as a back-up I want you," he pointed at Parker, "to break into Roskin's home and office and see if you can find out where he keeps his money. Hardison you are gonna be technical support, go in with her if you can and prep Parker well if you can't. Sophie, Roskin has this antiquated objection to working with women as business associates..."_

"_Let me guess, women belong in the kitchen looking pretty?"_

"_Something like that Soph, so Eliot and I are gonna play brothers Mark and Wyatt Goodwin. Hardison I want you to set up some fake credentials for us, maybe a couple of shady businesses – oh and give Roskin something he thinks he can hold over our heads. I want him to feel confident he got us, it'll make us that much easier to hook him."_

_Nate clapped his hands. "Right off we go; time to ruin this guy's life."_

_They all left to prepare except Eliot who remain on the couch looking pensive. He stared at Roskin some more. Something was wrong and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. _

**Present**

"I knew something was wrong right from the beginning and I did nothing. I could have gotten you all killed. Nate was right there with me in the mansion. If Roskin had of wanted he could have just shot us both right there. Nate would be dead it would be _my_ fault."

"Yeah but he didn't..."

"What and that makes it okay?" Eliot snapped. Sophie felt herself recoil involuntarily. "Oh Sophie I'm sorry... I didn't mean to yell at you. I know you're just tryin' to make me feel better. I just, I screwed everything up, I've blown Nate's cover and it's not like we can just send in Hardison with another business idea, he'll be way too paranoid to go for anything like that now. So basically he'll just carry on destroyin' people's lives and we can't even touch him."

"Okay Eliot first off, how many times has Nate pulled off a con even after the rest of us all thought we'd officially screwed the pooch huh?" She waited for Eliot to nod his head slightly in acceptance before she continued.

"And second off, you said it yourself; you didn't recognise the guy. How were you supposed to know who his father was? You're not the only one with a past. Trust me, I've run into people I conned in the middle of jobs and had to cut and run. At least now we will still be able to salvage something. There's always another angle with Nathan."

She looked into Eliot's eyes. He looked a little comforted by her words, but she had a feeling she was having a 'band-aid on the bullet wound' moment. There was something much worse going on that she could see Eliot wanted to avoid talking about. She needed to know but she was afraid if she pushed too hard he would just shut-down completely.

Eliot took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he visibly steeled himself.

"His father's name is Vyacheslav. I don't know his surname – I can guarantee it's not Roskin though. "No-one knows a whole lot about him except that he is Russian and he is a sadistic son-of-a-bitch. Or at least he was until I..." He trailed off to silence, his voice betraying him.

"Did you...did you kill him?" Sophie asked quietly.

"Oh no, what I did was much, much worse..."

The look in Eliot's eyes was so haunted Sophie felt little tremors go down her spine, goose bumps formed on her skin. For the first time she wondered if she really _wanted_ to know what Eliot had done?

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Nice spot on the Goodwin alias Christy! I almost went with Archie too but I thought it would be a little much :D Thanks to all my reviewers, it means to me that you took the time. Peace x**

**P.S. My dentist sucks! I had to go to the other day after I tripped up the stairs and cracked my tooth (what a douche!) Anywho, the dentist was yanking my jaw open so hard he left a bruise on my throat! I was like SERIOUSLY! When my Dad saw it though I had had to hide the phone so he didn't ring up and yell at him XD He can be pretty scary, but it was still hilarious – Dentist Boy does it again though and I'm drawing him a map!**

"You should know that I would never _ever_ do something like this again. I want you to understand that, okay?"

"It's okay Eliot I'm not going to judge you; we've all done things we wish we hadn't."

"Ever torture a man? Ever heard him screaming for you to stop? _Begging_ you to kill him?" He heard Sophie's harsh intake of breath and looked away. He let himself flop back on to the grass his head landing hard enough to cause a slight jolt of pain and then rested his forearm over his eyes.

Sophie gentle moved his arm, looking him in the eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"Don't you understand Soph? What Roskin said was right; I am a monster. What will it take for you to understand that! You wanna know some of the details huh? I broke every one of his fingers. Just to get some kind of bearing on his pain toleration levels, and y'know to watch him suffer! Then I cut off his thumbs so that he could never use his hands properly, you know why I did that? Because I, _I_, decided he wasn't human enough to deserve opposable thumbs, like _I_ have any right to judge!"

"Eliot..."

"THEN I moved on to the more major joints like the shoulders and the knees and let's put it this way, he wasn't going to be doin' any walking or y'know waving any time soon. I destroyed the ligaments and the tendons. Even world class surgeons would a hard time puttin' him back together again."

"Eliot please..."

"Oh, there's more. I won't go into the gory details but let's just say he ain't so much of a _man_ these days either. I burned him and cut him and made him beg forgiveness for all the depraved things he did to m..." He stopped suddenly as if halting himself from saying something he hadn't meant to share.

Sophie was shocked and silent. And then something came into her face that he couldn't identify.

"Oh Eliot, what did he do to you?" It was Eliot's turn to look shocked now. After everything he said she wanted to know what he had done to him.

"Didn't you hear what I just said...?"

"I heard. I also know you would have done any of that unless he had done something worse to..."

"I took his tongue. I took his _eyes..._"

"But he did worse though didn't he." She said this as a statement not a question. She was so certain, so sure. He stood up; standing over her on the ground. He swung his arms out gesturing wildly.

"Don't you get it?! It doesn't matter what he did! Who was I to judge him? It isn't my place to decide that he should suffer that! I did other things too, worse things, things that I can't tell you because it would be unfair of me to inflict that on you. Because if you knew they'd keep you lie awake at night, sickened and scared. The things I did to him... And I wasn't trying to extract information either! I wasn't trying to _save_ anybody this time! All I was doing was sending him to hell in the most excruciating fashion possible.

"Not killing him though, because living would be worse than dying, because death would have been mercy. You know where he is now? He's in a world of darkness and pain and fear. A place where he has no control; where he'll never feel safe again!"

"Are you talking about him now or you? Is that where he is or you are?" Sophie demanded anger in her voice.

"I've spent most of my life there!" he yelled. His hand flew over his mouth. He _definitely_ hadn't meant to say that. He turned away desperately wishing he could take that back; to un-say it.

These were things he had never spoken about, things he had intended to speak about. And he hadn't been able to stop them spilling out. Absently something in his brain told him the anger he had heard in Sophie's voice was faked, designed to get an honest response from him; to make his anger overrule his brain.

Sophie restrained herself from trying to hug Eliot recognising the man didn't want to be touched right now. So instead of pushing to find out what Vyacheslav had done to incur Eliot's uncontrolled wrath she moved away from anything to do with the incident at all. He would tell her at some point she felt confident of that. She lightened her tone as if none of had just occurred had happened, she was an actress after all.

"So, I should probably call the others so they don't wonder where we are."

"Hardison put a tracker in my truck that he thinks I don't know about so they know where we are already." Eliot said quietly before adding, "I'm sorry for telling you that stuff. I understand if you want to tell Nate. If you want me to leave the team I can do that too. I don't want this to be a burden on you."

He finally looked her in the eye, making sure that she knew he was serious. Sophie touched his face lightly and smiled.

"Of course I don't want you to leave." She then took his arm and led him back to the truck as if to make a point that she wasn't going to leave him.

When they made it back into their respective seats; Eliot choosing to drive this time, both heard their phones bleeping loudly. They had both left them in the truck; Sophie not wanting to be interrupted and Eliot out of habit. If he was riding the President himself could ring he wouldn't take the call so there wasn't really any point carrying it.

Sophie retrieved hers and tossed Eliot's to him. There were multiple missed calls from both Hardison and Nathan (although mostly Hardison.) Sophie called Hardison's cell, setting it to speaker phone so Eliot could hear too.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys? Do none a y'all answer your damn cell phones no more?"

"Well, hello to you too." said Sophie with laughter in her tone.

"Sorry to interrupt your morning but we have a problem. You see I have this computer programme that is constantly running. I won't bore you with the details of my brilliance, but what it does is it comb's through the internet searching for images or picture or mentions of our names. Now mostly it comes up with false alerts and occasionally things that I just delete."

"You plan on gettin' to the problem anytime this century Hardison?" Eliot asked short-temperedly.

"Impatient much? You know I am _seriously_ underappreciated! I'm here savin' all a y'all butts and..." He was interrupted by a growl so threatening Hardison decided getting to the point would be essential to his continued well-being even with Eliot so far away. "I found a posting online... it was a video of Eliot. I took it off the internet obviously, but..." Hardison trailed off.

"But what?" Eliot demanded.

"There was a message posted with it... it had been posted a few hours already before found it and deleted it... Roskin... he put a hit out on you. I'm really sorry man."

"Don't be. Unless _you're_ planning to kill me, which I highly doubt, you have nuthin' to apologise for." He heard Parker whisper '_Are you_ planning to kill him?' He rolled his eyes.

"I hacked his e-mail account. He got some replies already. I deleted any he hadn't read yet, but I was too late to intercept a few. I sent a virus disguised as a reply so his computers about to go down in flames."

"Can you track down the people he already replied to?"

"Yeah I sent them e-mails calling it off but I don't know how well trained killers respond to that kind of thing."

"Have you figured out who any of the people are that he asked?" Sophie asked her concern clear in her tone.

"I'm working on it but it ain't easy."

"Anyone I should really be concerned about is unlikely to be traceable; you don't last long if someone can figure out who you are by tapping a few keys."

"Hey! I don't just tap a few keys and 'hey presto!' all the answers appear. This is not easy. I'd like to you try doing this!"

"Hardison focus! I'm not _saying_ I could do it, I'm saying they ain't goin' be loggin' on to their home computer and sending out e-mails saying 'sure I'll shoot the guy in the face!" They'll be going out to neutral locations like an internet café or a library and making sure to shield their face from any cameras in the vicinity."

"Bet he's done that before" Parker laughed.

"I can hear you Parker."

"Oops! Sorry."

"Okay," Sophie said, "we're on our way back. Hardison keep looking and where is Nate."

"He went out to get coffee but I'll tell him you rang."

Sophie suddenly realised she was a little disappointed at missing Nate and then kicked herself for caring. She hated that she spent so much of her life preoccupied with him but was unable to disengage.

She pushed her own issues to the back of her mind and focussed on more pressing matters. What were they going to do now?

**TBC**

**Okay there's going to be more action next chapter. **

**Also I hope you don't feel I portrayed Eliot too harshly (or not harshly enough, who knows!) I didn't want it to be too graphic as I don't know how people would feel about that. I'm going to write more about what Vyacheslav did to deserve this so Eliot shouldn't seem so vilified in case you feel he seems that way atm. I'm going to stop rambling now!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chpt5**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed – you made my day (especially Jade – you're AWESOME :D****) **

**And also my apologies for taking so long to post, I just started university so I been a little busy (read: drunk)**

When they arrived back at Nate's apartment they had decided first that Sophie should get some sleep, and second that they need to go and sanitise the loft that Nathan had been using as his fake home for the con. They needed to check they hadn't left any clues as to where they lived for real.

Someone could use something as small as a receipt from some coffee shop to track them down – Eliot had done it before himself. They needed to be thorough as they didn't know how good their enemy was, therefore it was best to assume they were the best and anything less was a bonus.

Nathan and Eliot had elected to go. Eliot was mostly there for protection, and Nate had spent his whole career tracking people and things down so he knew what to look for. They didn't want to risk anyone else on the team coming, just in case. Roskin had seen Nate anyway so it made sense to keep the rest of the team hidden if at all possible.

Eliot had gone to check the roof for any of Parkers stuff when the man turned up.

He was at least 6ft 3' with blond hair and pale skin and was heavily muscled with a moustache that somebody should have told him was a mistake. Something about the way he was dressed made Nate wonder if he was going to a fancy dress party as a member of the village people at some point today. But he also held the knife like he knew what he was doing though and that was enough for Nate to feel more scared than amused.

"Ah, now you are Wyatt yes?" he said, his voice not as deep as he had expected but not to the point that it was effeminate.

Nate didn't like to run. Sure, he had to occasionally, but he didn't _like_ to. He would rather think his way out of a situation. Normally he might have at least attempted to talk his way out of it but the man called him Wyatt (which is how Roskin knew him) so he figured the cat was out the bag and denying it would be a waste of breath. He had nothing to negotiate with either. This time it was run or die. Please select option one or option two.

He picked option one.

It occurred to him midflight that it was a little short sighted to run upstairs instead of down but Eliot was up and that's all him brain could come up with when he had a man with a knife running after him. Up of course whilst having the benefit of having Eliot, had the more pressing downside of meaning that there was only so far to run before you hit a dead end, literally (unless you were Parker and were happy to jump off roofs. But he was not Parker and even in these circumstances he was still glad about that.)

Another downside was that he was also leading his attacker toward his intended target. But it was too late for regrets he was already committed. He just hoped this guy wasn't as good as Eliot.

He wasn't.

Nate was a little annoyed after all his running and _very_ manly screaming (obviously) that Eliot actually had the gall to laugh when he saw the attacker. The attacker wasn't too happy about it either.

"You're coming after me? You? Really? You know I think I'm actually a little insulted."

"Hey! I am a world-class assassin."

"And yet you sound like a petulant child. And you aren't a '_world-class assassin_'. Killing people who couldn't fight their way out of a wet paper bag is not '_world-class'_. You may have killed lots of people but that is not the same."

"How about if I kill you then? That make me world class?" More laughter from Eliot.

"You try to kill me and that will just make you dead." And suddenly the tone was serious. Eliot's voice hard as stone and Nate could literally see the 'assassin' shrink back under Eliot's glare. He was really glad he wasn't that guy.

"So let me ask you a question," Eliot continued, "and I want you to think real hard about your answer, okay?"

The assassin looked suspicious but nodded.

"If I let you live, are you just gonna come back and try it on again?"

"Let me live?" the assassin snorted. "I am going to _kill_ you, and then, I'm gonna go ahead and leave."

"Take note Nate; this man is _literally _about to die of stupidity."

And then the man died of stupidity. He pulled a gun and knife bobbing and ready. As he charged forward Eliot simple delivered one blow to the guy's throat and job done. Nate just stood frozen and astounded as the guy suffocated clutching his smashed windpipe. Eliot operated with a terrifying efficiency when he wanted to.

Eliot looked completely unaffected. In a 'him or me' situation Eliot didn't hesitate. It struck Nathan that Eliot had been more vocal with the guy than usual, but then he supposed this situation was a little different than usual. This time Eliot had a bounty on his head. It wasn't a case of just holding them off until they could pull off a con. He was dealing with trained killers (no matter how low his opinion of them was) and they had been paid to kill him.

Eliot had confirmed the guy was definitely not going to stop until one of them was dead and then took action. For Eliot the point of the whole taking the piss thing was that he could discern whether the guy's wounded pride would lead him to come after him again even if he got the hit called off. The guy confirmed his worse suspicions and suffered a fate of his own making.

Eliot felt himself detach himself from taking the responsibility of the man's death. He dug his own grave; Eliot had just been the one to fill it.

Nate however was lost in the image of Eliot's quick and vicious dispatching of the assassin. Intellectually he _knew_ the man had killed before but watching him in action was something different.

It was odd, but the thing that disturbed him most was the... _lack_ of violence. There was no real struggle, no surge of adrenaline, no screaming or bleeding or destruction. It was like there wasn't enough, of well, anything. One blow and a man's life just ended, someone's child had died; he felt like there should have been more. And perhaps there was an element of him seeing his own mortality so brutally laid before him; that selfish, self-important voice that felt that it could have been him. That felt somehow offended by proximity

"Great! Now I have to dump this guy's body, stupid son of a bitch. Nate... Nate... earth to Nate. Hey d'you think maybe we should just tack him to the door as a warning to anyone else who might try it on?" Eliot waved his hand in front of his face causing him to jump in surprise.

"Nate! We need to get rid of this body, unless you _SERIOUSLY _thinkwe should just leave it here and hope for the best?!" he finished sarcastically, annoyed at Nate's lack of response. He took a breath reminding himself Nate wasn't quite as unflappable as he'd have them believe.

Watching a man die was shocking, at least to the majority of the population. He kind of wished he was shocked to. He was just to numb to it at this point. Sophie would probably tell him it was a coping method. But being numb to it when he _had_ to kill was not to say that he killed indiscriminately. As someone who had taken many lives he understood the value of it, the weight it put on the soul.

He refused to allow himself to kill unless it was absolutely necessary. And that meant putting a tight leash on his anger; because there had been a time where he hadn't been so in control. His mind flashed to the image the Russian man screaming for death that had been the catalyst to these events.

Eliot decided to send Nate back to his apartment. He would deal with the body on his own. He knew what to do; another side effect of his past transgressions, he didn't need to involve Nate. They agreed to meet up later with the whole team.

"So, who exactly was Assassin numero uno?" asked Hardison.

"Guy named Frankie Riches. He worked for anyone who could pay him. If you had the green he'd kill anyone you wanted; man, woman, child... goldfish. And the guy had no conscience. He once shot a woman who was holding her 2 month old son, killed 'em both; all because he couldn't be bothered to wait until she'd finished feeding him. Guy was a monster."

"Well I sure feel a lot more comfortable about the whole killing-him-dead thing now." said Hardison sounding well and truly disgusted.

"Does that even count as an assassination attempt?" asked Parker. "Sounds more like Eliot just deaded a guy before he could do anything."

"Does it matter?" Nate said sounding a little exasperated. "Hardison, where are you on identifying any other potential threats?"

"Well the first one I tracked down pretty easily, name of Bart Macy."

"Pfft! He's not a threat, the guy's all hat and chaps." said Parker. Hardison narrowed his eyes wondering if he'd misunderstood her and what she said actually made sense, then he shrugged realising it definitely hadn't, not feeling in the least surprised. Parker rolled her eyes looking exasperated (there had to be some irony in there somewhere) and clarified; "The guy's no threat. He likes to play the expert but its all BS; no need to worry. Even if Eliot lying unconscious in front of him and Macy had a loaded gun in his hand you still wouldn't need to worry. He almost screwed up a job of mine in Prague. Idiot. Are you going to murder him too?"

"Parker! I did not murder Riches! It was self-defence."

"Okay fine, are you going to self-defence him to death?"

"No!"

Eliot stood up abruptly and started pacing like a caged animal. In the past he would have done one of two things. Gotten a new identity and scattered, (this was not something that could necessarily be considered cowardly but Eliot still hated the idea of retreating) or, the option he preferred; laying a trap. He would make himself the bait and then drop as many guys as came his way until either they were all dead or he was dead himself.

Now though his options were not so clear cut. He had the team to consider; if he left they'd be in danger and he couldn't leave them exposed like that – it just wasn't in his nature. Alternatively if he decided to act as bait the rest of the team would want to help and that was another multi-faceted problem.

He would never admit it but he really cared about their little band of miscreants and misfits so he didn't want them getting hurt on his account. He wasn't sure how he'd live with himself if he got one of them killed... or worse; and he should know better than anyone that there are plenty of things far worse things than death.

He knew that if it came down to it he'd lay down his life for any of the team without a moment's hesitation. Throwing yourself in front of bullets sounds rather noble but the habit tended to get you real dead real quick. Not that it had stopped him so far of course but then some people were worth the risk. Although if he was honest with himself he had sacrificed himself for people he either didn't know at all or definitely didn't deserve it.

And of course there was the other issue of him not being able to afford distractions. If he was constantly worried about everyone else then it wouldn't be long before he screwed up missed something... something fatal. He'd seen many a man (and woman) make that kind of mistake. It was something that had at least partially contributed to his choice to work alone up until now. That and his serious trust issues but that wasn't important right now.

He really wanted time to think alone. But the urge to just get up and go was subdued somewhat by the fact that he was aware that he would leave the others unprotected if he did. It was kind of a catch-22 situation when he thought about it. If they stayed with him they'd be in the line of fire if and when someone came for Eliot, but if he left them unattended with some of the world's best assassins out for his blood and aware that they were working together they'd be unprotected and out of their league.

He needed something to relax him.

He needed to hit something.

Eliot decided that the team needed to move. At 12pm they arrived at one of Eliot's safe houses. It was the closest and least susceptible to scrutiny that he had nearby. They had to stay fairly close by until Eliot figured out what to do. He didn't really want to use this particular safe house but he didn't want to go to any of the others safe houses without thoroughly vetting them and he just didn't have time for that right now.

It was totally untraceable or at least as untraceable as you could get nowadays. It was a little rundown looking from the outside but that was intentional. It looked as though it was abandoned and unlived in - which it hadn't been for a while – but the look was intentional.

The garden was overgrown and it was tricky to pick their way to the front door. The paint was peeling and the house gave that general feeling of foreboding and yet it looked secure enough to discourage squatters; the trespassers will be shot sign saw to that – people appeared to have chosen not to take that particular risk.

Also the sensor that set off a recording of some vicious sounding dogs was pretty convincing. Another reason why the house was so good was the fact that Eliot had picked one where the surrounding houses would be much more appealing to would-be burglars. This ensured to him that anyone who did try and get in was someone who had come for a specific reason.

It was a quiet, slightly rundown area, the kind that you didn't socialise with your neighbours in and this house fitted right in. The inside however was a whole different story. It was simple but somehow beautifully crafted at the same time. It had Eliot written all over it. It wasn't filled with trinkets, but it did have the odd personal touch. Also it had things that Sophie guessed had been made by Eliot himself, like the wooden table and the kitchen cabinets and counter tops.

Eliot was just one of those people who like to make things when he had the chance. He preferred it to buying everything at any rate. For someone who had pretty much owned nothing since he left home up until he had finally put down some kind of roots when he joined the team. Well okay that wasn't entirely true; he owned safe houses in a number of countries but he could walk away from every single one of those things. They were disposable and meaningless, this place though, this place was different.

These were things that he had made, had crafted, himself. They meant something; they were almost... a part of him. He had laid the stone floor himself and had painted the walls and the beams and hung the curtains and well, everything.

He hadn't been in here since he had finished it which seemed a little silly given how much he loved it. It was weird he supposed but he was scared that he would ruin this almost sacred place by living in it. He had planned to retire here if he survived that long. He wanted to protect it until then but desperate times and all that. Much as it pained him the people he was inviting in were more important than what was, when it came down to it, just bricks and mortar.

And he certainly didn't plan to tell the other how special this place was. That was private and it was going to stay that way.

"So, this place is nice." said Sophie. He merely grunted in response. "It seems much bigger on the inside. Ooooh, where did you get this rug, it's gorgeous!"

He turned his head to glare at the other who had started to snigger. They stopped; they valued having working limbs after all.

"I picked it up in a market in Cairo a little while ago."

"Let me guess – good for hiding bodies in?" Hardison joked quietly to Parker.

"I dunno, wanna try that out?" Eliot snapped menacingly. Hardison looked at the others wide-eyed trying to figure out if he was joking. "I'm going out to get food. Break anything and I'll... just don't break anything."

That was all he said before he left slamming the door; really wishing he hadn't brought them here.

He left on foot before changing his mind and calling a cab. He wanted to go get him bike from where he had left it the day they had run from the party. It wasn't that he was sentimental, he loved it but he could let it go without a second's hesitation, it's just that it had his prints on it. And prints could be used against a person. Plus he didn't know whether there was a risk of the authorities getting involved – unlikely but always a possibility.

He hadn't left it that close to the mansion, he had hidden it about a mile away; a back up escape route he hadn't planned on having to use. Now it was just a loose end he needed to tidy.

He had chosen not to tell the others where he was going because he didn't want them to insist on coming along. He didn't think anyone would have linked the bike to him but that wasn't a risk he was going to take. If there was an ambush then he was going to deal with it on his own. If it all went well and he was just being paranoid, well, the others never needed to know.

He had the cab drop him off a while away from his destination; he wanted a quiet approach. He made it to the bike and way away fairly quickly. No-one had been watching it and he wasn't followed out of there. The advantage to the small one track road to the mansion was that a tail would be really easy to spot.

When he got back into the city though he realised that his paranoia was justified. He caught sight of his tail with little difficulty. It's not that they weren't good, it's just that he was a lot better. Plus they had a two man rotation and there was only so much a person could do with that when following a man like him.

He realised that the bike must have some kind of tracking device, Hardison could probably I.D. it fairly easily but he supposed it didn't really matter right at that moment. He needed to find some way to take his pursuers out. First thing he needed to do was figure out how good they were; anyone could sling a tracker on a bike amateurs or professionals and to be effective he had to know how high (or low) to aim.

Too good and he'd just lose them without stopping them, too low and he could get himself killed.

He pulled over and the nearest tail car copied him while the other drove straight on. Now he had seen all their faces and new that there were four of them. He got out into the busy shopping district. He figured that they were unlikely to try anything in such a crowded area.

He himself if he had to go after a target actually found crowded market places to be highly useful (provided there weren't any surveillance cameras; he didn't want to be identified if it was avoidable). People tended to feel like they were safe out in the open but those people would be sadly mistaken. It was surprisingly easy to just quietly kill a man and then slip into the hubbub of the crowds, gone before anyone realised anything was even wrong. Or even to abduct a man from the street in broad daylight, even if you were seen witnesses were notoriously unreliable and with such a fluid location often they just left without staying to report what they had seen. Ashamed perhaps at their lack of response to the crime they had witnessed, it was easy to convince oneself that they had seen nothing at all, they didn't want to interfere in someone else's business – it was impolite!

Still in this situation and with his training he was a lot safer than the average citizen out in the open and just because _he_ dared to operate in public didn't mean that his pursuers would. He needed to pick them off one by one for the best chance of survival.

He led the men on a merry dance through the market, taking opportunities where he saw them.

The first man went down absolutely silently. Eliot slipped down a side street, flattening himself to the wall before he grabbed the guy from behind cutting off his airway with his forearm. He was out of sight as he stole the man's consciousness away, lowering him gently to the ground soundlessly making sure not to kill the guy. He searched the man's body and found an ear piece; not as sophisticated as their own but it showed they were all communicating.

He stole the device, fixing it to his own ear so that he could listen in. He knew where they all were now and the hunters became the hunted. He drew them all into the alley one by one and quietly 'put them to sleep', except the last one who seemed to be in charge; he had a few questions for him.

With a knife at his throat he got real chatty real quickly. They were a small outfit hired to track him by Roskin himself. They were well trained by normal standards but compared to Eliot they might as well have been kindergartners.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you all right now?" Eliot demanded.

"Come on! Please! Please! I've got kids! Ray, over there, he just got married!" the man pleaded.

Eliot had already decided at this point there was no way he was going to kill this man. He had worried for a second he might be being played but after snaking out the man's wallet and seeing the family photo's he was a little more sure of his decision. There was also the fact that this guy's fear was definitely genuine. He could see it in the man's eyes that he could never kill anyone, he was just a man doing his job, and that was to tail him back to his home and nothing more.

"Okay, but you and your family need to get out of town; that goes for your whole team to. Don't call Roskin, just leave. Give me your number and I'll call you when it's safe to come back."

"Wait, why do we have to run? Why can't we just tell Roskin we lost you?" asked the man.

"Because Roskin is a very dangerous man and if he's anything like his father you could end up dead, you _and_ your family, is that a risk you're willing to take?" The man responded with a gulp and the shake of his head. "Good. Now I'm gunna to leave and if I see any 'a you following I won't be so nice next time."

With that Eliot stood up and left the confused and slightly terrified man behind. He found a man who would buy his bike for in cash at a nearby garage; he got less than it's real value but it wasn't like he needed the money so what did it really matter. The honest hard-working man he sold it to get a good deal and he got some cash that he didn't have to go to a bank or one of his hidden stashes for. The other advantage of course was that on the off chance someone tracked the bike down they'd be led on a wild goose chase.

He then decided he should do some shopping while he was at the market since that was what he had told the others he was doing. Plus the house really did need some food other than the non-perishables he had stocked the house with in case he needed to lay low and didn't have a chance to shop. He didn't want to go without fresh fruit and vegetables unless absolutely necessary.

Also he liked to cook to de-stress and with all the others in his house 24/7 he sensed he was going to be doing a lot of cooking.

**TBC**

**Okay so I'm not entirely happy with this chapter but it has been a long time since I updated (sorry!) so I thought I ought to stop agonising and just post it. It felt like a random place to leave it but y'know...**

**P.S – the whole 'hat and chaps' thing is a weird saying my sister invented that pretty much means whatever we want and is really dependant on tone of voice – yes we are a little weird but try using this saying, it is just way too fun... no... just us then? Okay... never mind... *shuffles off to corner***


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